Effortlessly
by DySolo
Summary: "Even the most intelligent, rational person can fall victim to the power of love." Reid/Lila.
1. Love

Title: Effortlessly  
>Pairing: Geekywood (LilaReid)  
>Author's Notes: song prompt - You're the Reason I Come Home by Ron Pope. Poem, Lullaby, by WH Auden.<p>

The whole point of this was try to be more descriptive, not rely on dialogue as much. I know that I have written this same sort of scene more than once, but I hope that you all still like it. Please give honest responses, criticisms and even specific spots where you think that don't work or really work - I'm trying to become better. Thank you and enjoy.

* * *

><p>Love.<p>

It's what separates us from the other animals. The bond that people create to make it more than just evolution. Brain chemistry sparks that make us feel more connected, that give us something to look forward to. Makes us feel. It's what separates the good from the evil, the light from the dark. It's the one thing that makes one turn into a situation their brain tells them to flee from and makes one walk into trouble. For the ones you love.

Scientifically, it's nothing but chemistry. There's no mystery about it. But psychologically, sociologically, it's the biggest mystery of all. It changes situations. It changes people. It changes everything. Even the most intelligent, rational person can fall victim to the power of love.

It just takes the right person.

At the right time.

In the worst situation.

The September heat of the City of Angels was nothing when it came to seeing her in a bikini, walking into the night. He was supposed to be protecting her from the ones that wanted to cause her harm and all he could concentrate on was how her skin contrasted against the dark was better than any painting or picture he had seen in the last couple of days. And yet, that is not the moment he realizes it's more than just a mission though.

It's not even after the kisses they share.

It's the moment she sits, crying on a couch, talking about trust. In clothes that although flattering on her, are more comfortable and less about making a statement. Her hair is up and messy from the pool. Her face, red and blotched, from crying. And yet, she's still the most beautiful woman he's seen and he physically aches at her pain. It was his job to lie to her. Part of the plan to keep her safe, not let the hunter see the prey was onto him, and yet, he wishes to have thrown it all away, just so that she wouldn't be in doubt of his nature now. He wants to do more than sit across from her and apologize. It's a realization that causes inner turmoil.

Noticing someone's beauty is fine - a natural effect. Wanting to help was a part of the job, one had to be empathic to understand the horrors of the things they faced daily. This feeling - the complete need to take every broken thing in her life and fix it - though, could not be alright, not with a victim of a case. And yet, as he continued to look at her, the emotion only continued to rise in his chest. He's shocked by the touch of his mentor, taken away from his thoughts.

From there, everything vocational begin to line up and he doesn't have an opportunity to even think of it again until she sits in the back of an ambulance, being checked out. The EMT nods at him and he ducks inside, sitting next to her silently. A blanket is wrapped around her, to prevent her going into shock. She reaches out under the brown, her fingers brush against the side of his hand until he turns it slightly towards her, enough to let her hand slide comfortably in his. He looks at their clasped hands before he looks up at her face. Her eyes are red again and she's even more disheveled than before. Her lips curl into a weak and uneasy smile before she leans more against her, her shoulder against his. He pauses, unsure of what to do before he lifts his arm around her. It's the right move he assumes before she curls into him, her free hand wrapping around his chest, her face burying into his neck. He feels her tremble and smells the mix of chlorine and citrus of her shampoo. He offers her the most comforting words he knows, a repeat of things he has heard JJ tell families and victims alike, before he brushes his lips against her temple - something his mother (when lucid) would do when he would race into her room following bad dreams. She moves closer to him, almost in his lap at this point, but he makes no argument about it. He just sits there offering hushed calming words until she feels safe enough to pull back and look at him.

"Will you stay with me?" She asks, voice soft and uncertain.

He gives one brief nod and she smiles again, this time a little less sad, and rests her head back on his shoulder. He focuses on the world outside their self-made sanctuary, listening to officers talking and sirens going off in the distance. A distinct voice makes it self clear, heard through the others and he knows it must be close. Elle asks how Lila is, if he's seen the tall lean man that was with her. He listens for the response and is glad to hear that Lila was free to go, but frowns at his next words: that the 'nerdy guy' was in the back. He focuses on her footsteps and knows she's there before he sees her. He turns to his head to look at the Cuban, who cocks an eyebrow before her face softens into the warm, caring smile. She gives a nod before making her way off to somewhere else, leaving him alone again with the scared woman.

Criminal Minds || Effortlessly

He walks into the hotel room, eyes scanning the room before he looks over his shoulder at her. She raises her eyes, gives another smile, and gives his hand a squeeze. She has not let go since the ambulance. At the thought, she breaks the connection, moving to set her bag on the bed. He scans the room again. It's a small, cheap hotel room, nothing fancy like he would suspect of an actress living in the town of the stars. There's a thud from upstairs and he raises his chin to inspect the sound, but nothing follows it. He turns back to her, seeing her sitting on the bed, staring into space, looking a little lost. He shuffles his way to her and her eyes raise to look at him.

"I can't believe that…." She starts, but shakes her head, ending her words, staring out again. He knows what she means, though. The unsub had been a friend. There had been many cases when they had spoken with a wife, husband, child of a serial killer who always said the same thing. I can't believe he/she would do something like that. He has a speech with statistics and multiple facts about the average serial killer, but it doesn't seem helpful right now. He sits down next to her, silently, out of his element. He was never the one victims of crimes turned to and had never really been good at reaching out to others to give or get comfort. His mother had been the one exception and even that had ended almost seven years ago. And yet, again, he feels the strong need to do something for the woman next to him. He looks at her again, unsure of what it is he can do, before she begins to move. She stands, grabbing the bag and setting it on the floor, and walks to the other side of the bed. He shifts, turning to look at her, the swift change in actions confusing. She pulls off the dark brown zip up, exposing the white tank that lay under which outlines her curves perfectly. He feels his cheeks burn as he turns back around, wanting to give her privacy. The weight on the bed changes again and he looks back to see her in the bed, holding a pillow, looking at him.

"Lay with me." She says. He nods before kicking off his shoes and laying near the edge of the bed, not wanting to crowd. She smiles and reaches out, tugging him closer, so he scoots a little closer. Her hand lays flat on his chest, above his heart. The smile on her face widens.

"Does your heart always race like that?"

He flushes, trying to slow his heart beat. "My resting heartbeat is around 78, but, uh… being around you might be causing a bit of tachycardia."

"tachyca-what?"

"a faster than normal heart rate." he explains. "Especially over 100 beats per minute."

She nods before silence overtakes them again. He wonders if he should speak again, but decides against it. He watches her as she continues to lay there, watching him. It's a little bit unnerving, the silence and the stares, but it's nice too. He debates on which is more, before deciding it's similar to the experience out of the pool and in the ambulance again. The emotional response mattered more at the moment than his unease.

He's not sure how much time has passed as her eyelids start to droop at first. He finds himself holding his breathe as they fall, before she blinks and reopens her eyes. Her hand clutches at his shirt and he frowns, wondering what she sees when she closes her eyes. He scoots forward a little and wraps his arm around her. She takes in a deep breath and rests her forehead against the hand that lies on his chest. His sense are overtaken by the smell and warmth of her. The softness of her skin, as his fingers rest where her shirt has ridden up slightly. He takes a deep breath before he begins to speak, saying the first thing that comes to his mind in the moment.

_"Lay your sleeping head, my love, _  
><em>Human on my faithless arm; <em>  
><em>Time and fevers burn away<em>  
><em> Individual beauty from <em>  
><em>Thoughtful children, and the grave <em>  
><em>Proves the child ephemeral: <em>  
><em>But in my arms till break of day<em>  
><em> Let the living creature lie, <em>  
><em>Mortal, guilty, but to me <em>  
><em>The entirely beautiful."<em>

He continues to recite the poem until it's finish and she breathes in deep, her whole body expanding before she lets out of the breath.

"More." Her voice comes out mumbled against her hand and his chest. He nods to himself and begins to recite every lullaby he knows until she falls asleep.

Criminal Minds || Effortlessly

He stares at the picture from outside the police department. Lila's head resting on his hand before he had to leave her. Leaving had never been so hard as it was in that moment. Only one moment rivals it and it's of his mother, watching her be taken away and begging him to stop it. But he had to let her go as he had let his mother. She was a star in another galaxy, their future as crossed as Shakespeare's famous couple. It would not work and the tragedy would be too much to bare. He tosses the magazine into the trash before he pauses. His mind full of the memories of the night before - the woman curled against his chest, needing him in a way he has never experienced, her hands clutching his chest, making sure he had never left, the look in her eyes as they stood, trying to make a fleeting moment linger. He leans over and grabs the magazine out of the trash and places it in his bottom drawer. If anything, it was a memory worth keeping. It was the moment he first felt that all the talk of 'love' could be more than just a chemical response in the prefrontal cortex. He grabs his bag and begins to walk towards his beat up car, driving to the apartment he lives in. His phone begins to ring as he walks up the stairs and he ruffles through his bag to find it, answering it on the last ring.

"Reid." He says.

"Hey." The voice is easily recognizable and makes his stomach muscles tighten, immediately.

"Lila?"

"Yeah." There's a long pause and he continues up the stairs, making his way to his door, before she speaks again. "This is silly… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called."

"No." He says before her words fully reach him and he pauses at the door with a frown when they do. She's silent again and he stands outside of his home, waiting for her to say something else. A minute of silence passes and he checks his phone to make sure she hasn't hung up. She hasn't.

"Hello?" He says, trying to get her to speak.

He hears her sheets ruffle through the phone and then a sigh. He continues to wait, knowing she's there, trying not to rush her again.

"Do you think you could read to me again." She asks, her voice soft and timid - like when she had asked him to stay the night. He nods before he speaks.

"Yeah. Of course. Let me get inside." He says, inserting the key into the door before he unlocks and opens it. He sets his bag at the door and walks into his bedroom. He sits on the bed, kicking off his shoes before scooting up the bed, still seated.

"What would you like for me to read?" He asks, looking at the bookshelf near his bed that holds his mother's treasured books he had never been able to throw into storage.

"Anything." She says. Again, he nods and reaches for his mother's favorite book to read to him as a child. He opens to the first page and begins to read.


	2. Guilt

Title: Effortlessly (2 of 12)  
>Pairing: Geekywood (LilaReid)  
>Author's Notes: song prompt - You're the Reason I Come Home by Ron Pope.<p>

The whole point of this was try to be more descriptive, not rely on dialogue as much. I continued to keep it going, seeing how I enjoyed writing the first one so much. This one does have more dialogue, but it's still a lot less than usual. The dialogue is needed to keep the story going, rather than being the story. At least, that's what I'm hoping for. Please give honest responses, criticisms and even specific spots where you think that don't work or really work - I'm trying to become better. Thank you and enjoy.

This takes place 8 months after the first part and happens a day or so after Elle resigns from the team in 2.06 The Boogeyman.

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><p>Lila is visiting when he finds out the news about Elle leaving the BAU. He hears it from Hotch, though, and the fact hurts more than it should. The day is long and he goes home early. She smiles largely when she sees him arrive, getting off to couch to greet him, but pauses short. He slides his bag of his shoulder, dropping it near the door and walks to his bedroom. She follows, curiously. It's not until he's seated that she steps up to him. He doesn't look at her. He's not in the mood for company anymore. All he wants to do is lay down and go to sleep. All he can think about is how his talk with Elle before she pulled the gun on a man. He should have stopped it, he should have gotten her help. He should have done something and he did nothing and now she was gone.<p>

Lila reaches out and raises his chin, but he shifts his eyes away from. He doesn't want to see her blue eyes filled with worry or the scrunched up eyebrow and lip look she gets when she's confused. He doesn't want to feel her soft hands on his cheek or her lips against his forehead - and yet, he feels both.

"Tell me what's wrong." She says, softly, melodic. He doesn't know if it's just a natural ability or the acting classes she has taken, but she can make her voice so soothing that everything that hurts decreases. He turns his head away from her, looking to the side. He doesn't want to explain. He doesn't want to feel better. He just wants to sit in his guilt and try and figure out everything he did wrong so he doesn't do it again. So he doesn't lose another person. But Lila's warm hand moves against his cheek, fingers pressing against the chin as she nudges his face back to her. He raises his eyes to hers, trying to give his best annoyed look, but it falters when he reaches the dark blue gaze.

"You're scaring me." She says, voice still soft, but with a hint of worry and a dash of fear. He swallows his pain for the moment and stands, his hands moving up against her biceps to her shoulder until they rest against her neck, his thumb brushing against the skin.

"I'm sorry." he says, matching her tone. "Bad day."

Her arms wrap around his waist and she tugs him closer, pressing her body into his. She looks up at him through her lashes, still worried. "Can I help?" She asks and for the first time since before Hotch told him the news at the morning conference, a hint of a smile makes its way to his lips. He kisses her forehead, his lips lingering on the skin longer than normal.

"You are." He says and she smiles before she rests her head under his, nuzzled against his collarbone. She stays there, hugging him close until he makes the first move, taking a step backwards. She looks up at him again, the hint of worry still in her eyes, and he gives her a real smile, takes her hand, and leads her back into the living room to whatever she was doing before he came home.

**Criminal Minds || Effortlessly**

She rests her feet on his lap, a script in her head and pencil between her teeth. He had already read through the script and he knows that some time soon, when she's ready, he will help her go through her lines. She'll forget a few and he'll tell her them which will cause a series of an events: an eye roll, a poke to the chest (in this position, with her foot), and a mutter about his 'god damn memory' before she'll smile and kiss him. The whole thing will then start over the next time she stammers over her lines and he corrects her.

Soft jazz music plays in the background. Lila hates the silence and always turns something on from his collection. He watches her toes as they keep the beat. Her nails are painted blue, which he still doesn't understand the reason for, but it amuses her to do so, so he doesn't argue with it. Her legs are tan and toned, the bronzed skin contrasting against the white short cotton shorts she wears.

"The only time you're happy is when you're hurting people." She says and he turns his attention away from how her shirt fits tightly to her face.

"What?"

"It's the line. The only-"

"Elle resigned." He interrupts.

She lowers the script to look at him. A frown upon her features. She swings her legs on his lap, tucking one underneath her as she moves into a sitting position. "I thought she was cleared for that shooting."

"She was." His fingers tap against his knee as he thinks about it before he stands up. It's been on his mind all day. He can't get it out of his head. He begins to pace as his mind begins to race. He knows he should have done something. After their talk, he should have went to Hotch. He should have told Gideon that something was wrong. He turns back to her, seeing the worry on her face. He wasn't going to bring this up. They only had a few more days together. He shakes his head, he wasn't going to spend it, focusing on work. Lila didn't deserve that. "Say the line again."

She hesitates, looking at him. It's evident in her face that she wants to continue to the conversation about Elle, that she's worried about him. She bites at her bottom lip as she stares at him for a moment longer before she tears her eyes away from him and move back to the script. She runs a hand through her hair with one hair and reaches for the booklet of papers with the other. She stands as she grabs his, the tight royal blue shirt clinging to her bust. She licks her lips, reading over the lines quickly before she makes her way up to him.

"I know you're upset about Elle leaving." She says, looking at him.

"That's not the line." He says, staring at her.

She rolls her eyes before she raises her eyebrows. She steps towards him, close enough to touch him. Her hands move against his shoulders. One hand runs through the back of his hair, tugging on the shortened locks. She hadn't been able to hide her displeasure for his haircut when she first saw him and it hasn't changed. Her nose scrunches as her fingers play with it. He had been confused by it, figuring the more masculine haircut would have more to her appeal, but the look of her face was undeniable. Although, if he's honest, She had been running her fingers through his hair more often lately than in the previous 8 months they had spent together - and that was a plus. He feels her nail against the back of his neck as her hand moves back to his shoulder. He lowers his gaze to match hers. The raised eyebrow look is back, her way of telling him that she knows it's bothering him and that denying it will get him no where. He loves her expressions, each unique and telling him exactly what he needs to know without words. He's not very good at detecting most emotions in people, unless they are very pronounced, but she's different. He studies her, knows all her ticks. Knows that one eyebrow cocked is amused and two is something completely different. He knows the way she holds her cup in the morning expresses how she feels (two fingers curled in the handle with a thumb against the brim is good and usually is followed with humming. Three curled in the handle, with her thumb resting against her pointer means she wasn't in a good mood and that it's best to leave her alone until she curls up against him while he reads the paper on the couch.)

"Spence." She says, pulling his attention back to the matter at a hand.

He leans down and brushes his lips against hers. "I'm fine." He says and she sighs and pulls away from him, moving to the kitchen.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" She asks and he shakes his head, moving back to the couch.

It's not even that he doesn't want to talk about it with her - it's the fact he doesn't know how. He knows that the situation were caused by a series of events, in which could have been changed by his own actions. Morgan had told him that it wasn't his fault - that Elle chose to do what she did and Spencer knew he was right. But he also knew that Elle had been through a traumatic experience four months earlier and they had placed her into an situation that would bring that up without her having gone through any type of therapy. They were profilers, studiers of behavior and psychology. They all should have known better. Especially him, with his multiple degrees and his high intelligence. If he could not use both to his advantage when it came to his friends, what was the use of it at all.

Lila comes back, a cup in her hand and sits next to him. She lifts her feet off the ground, resting them against the edge of the coffee table before turning on the tv, silently. He looks down at the cup in her hand, seeing three fingers looped in the handle.

**Criminal Minds || Effortlessly**

He leans against the door frame, looking at the woman that lays in his bed. She's back to reading her script, flipping through the pages. She looks up over the paper for a second, acknowledging that he's there, before her eyes drop back to the page. She's still annoyed. He understands. They have had this argument before. After the Fisher King case, he had done the same thing, feeling guilty over the fact his letters had been the cause. She had tried to get him to talk to her, to open up and he hadn't - he still hadn't. He had dealt with it though. Elle got better and he moved on, and now, here they were, in a similar situation. She only wanted to help him and yet again, he was pushing her away. But, it wasn't her problem to deal with. It wasn't her burden to bear. He didn't want to put those things onto her, didn't want her to have to deal with it. He continues to watch her until she sets her script down against her stomach and looks at him. Her tongue darts against her bottom lip as a hint of a frown comes a long with a furrowed brow.

"C'mere." She says, her tone pleading, and he does.

He drops a knee on the bed first before the other. She moves the script to the end table and he moves towards her. He rests his head against her stomach, curling into himself. He closes his eyes as her hand moves against his back. He lets the smell of lavender soap and the fresh linen smell of his laundry detergent fill his nose. The jazz music still plays in the living room, but its much more muted in the bedroom that rests at the end of a small hallway. Still, the saxophone plays in tempo with her breathing, his head rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. Her hand moves from his back to his head, running her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. It all makes him feel safe. Surrounded in her warmth, he can feel the tenderness in her touch. He keeps his eyes closed as he speaks.

"It's my fault." He says before he opens his eyes, to look up at her. Her eyes are on him, watching him as her fingers continue to comb through his hair. She locks eyes with him for a moment and he breathes her in again, lowers his eyes again, and continues. He shares it all, speaking until his voice cracks. He breathes out, slowly, a weight lifted off his shoulders. He feels better until he looks back at her. Her eyes are glazed with unshed tears and his heart races, wondering if he spoke too much, if he shouldn't have spoken at all. Her hand moves from his hair to the collar of his shirt. She tugs and he moves, resting his weight on his elbows above her. Her hands grasp his face, placing a hard kiss on the mouth and when she pulls back, she locks eyes with him again.

"From now, you tell me everything."

And he nods.


	3. Desperation

Title: Effortlessly (3 of 12)  
>Pairing: Geekywood (LilaReid)  
>Author's Notes: song prompt - You're the Reason I Come Home by Ron Pope.<p>

The whole point of this was try to be more descriptive, not rely on dialogue as much. I continued to keep it going, seeing how I enjoyed writing the first one so much. This one does have more dialogue, but it's still a lot less than usual. The dialogue is needed to keep the story going, rather than being the story. At least, that's what I'm hoping for. Please give honest responses, criticisms and even specific spots where you think that don't work or really work - I'm trying to become better. Thank you and enjoy.

This one takes place almost a year after the last one and deals with his drug addiction.

* * *

><p>Lila was at the hospital hours after he had been found, sitting by his side, holding his hand. She had been the only reason he didn't fight to leave. The look in her eyes, desperate and pleading for him to get the help, had kept him in the bed with IV's in his arm. He had been pretending to sleep when JJ came in and listened to the conversation between the two women. It was the first time he had heard JJ cry and he knew he squeezed Lila's hand hard enough to break it, but there was no evidence in her voice as she calmed the older woman down. After the other woman had left - Lila convincing her to go eat something -, Lila had leaned in, brushed his lips against his ear and whispered.<p>

"Faker."

He opened his eyes to look at her and she gave him a smile, exhausted and emotional. He squeezed her hand again before closing his eyes again, sleep really taking him this time.

He opens his eyes again, hours later. His mouth is dry and he looks over to get his cup of water when he spots Lila curled up in the recliner that doesn't recline. She has one of the blue thin FBI jackets draped around her as a makeshift blanket, but it doesn't seem to being much good.

"Lila." He calls once and then again until she stirs. Her eyelids half open before closing and reopening fully as she wakes. When she sees he's up, she sits straighter, worry flooding in her face, questions of care coming from her. He gives a shake of his head, before he scoots over in the bed and pulls back the blanket: an invitation to join him. She watches him before shaking her head. She starts to reject before he raises his eyebrows, matching the look she has given him for months. She recognizes her own look on his face and snorts before crawling into the bed with him. She smells like JJ and it reminds him that she must have heard the news and immediately taken off from where ever she has to be with him. He wraps his arm without the IV in it around her and she immediately buries her face into his chest. Her fingers grasp at the thin material of the hospital gown. He kisses the top of her head before her body begins to tremble and shake with sobs.

Criminal Minds || Effortlessly

His body detoxs the drug during his hospital stay, but it doesn't fight the psychological need to forget. The clear vials sit on his coffee table, staring him down. He remembers how slow everything had been with the drugs in his system. How his brain hadn't raced so fast and how everything felt…easy. With the nightmares and the fears, he wanted easy. He needed just a moment of easy. He hears the door lock click and snatches it off the table, tucking into his sleeve as Lila enters. She smiles before making her way over to him, brushing his hair away from his ear, checking on his cut before kissing his temple and moving to the bedroom. She's leaving today, back to L.A to continue filming, and he can see the hesitation. She's waiting for him to ask her to stay, but he can't. She needs to get back to her job and… he really just wants to be alone.

It's not that he doesn't enjoy her company. He does, but he's still not used to having someone around him, waiting on him. He had always been independent, doing everything on his own. Having her here in his time of need makes it harder to fight the urge to give into her, completely. To become dependent on her. He's learned that lesson before, lost too many. It would be stupid to do it again.

Once her bag is packed, she comes back and sits next to him. She's watching him, looking for an excuse to stay and he gives her his best smile. She sighs and leans against him.

"I don't have to go back, Spence…I can stay." She says and he shakes his head, kisses her neck before he leans against her too. She sighs again, wrapping her arms around him.

"Promise to call me if you need anything. I'll tell Ryan that…. You matter more than that show."

He raises his eyes to her and touches her cheek as her eyes glass over again. He can only imagine what it was like to get that call, to rush out here and see him in pain. He couldn't ever imagine seeing her in a hospital bed without losing it. His thumb runs over her cheek, caressing the skin. She nuzzles into his hand, closing her eyes.

"I love you." He says, softly, ignoring the heated debate in his head, rationality telling him that this was only going to end up in more heart break. Her eyes open slowly as she looks at him, eyebrows scrunched together, disbelieving that she heard him correctly. He licks his lips and repeats himself. She breathes in and out in a shudder before she leans into him, resting on his lap, before kissing his jaw, his cheek and his lips. He repeats himself again and she kisses him again.

"I love you too." She says, finally, leaning her forehead against his and his hands move up her back.

"I'll be okay."

She nods, awkwardly against his forehead, eyes on her hands that move over his chest before they finger at his collar and tie, straightening it before tugging at it, making it uneven again.

"I know." She says, her voice full of disbelief and sadness. She wants to say more, he can see it as she bites at the inside of her cheek, but she swallows the words, resting her head on his shoulder, burying her face into his neck. She rests there, his hands moving up and down her back, trying his best to comfort her. She stays like that until her phone rings, her driver had arrived and waiting downstairs. She moves away, slowly, as if each move is painful and she kisses him soft yet passionately, as if it's the last time they're ever going to see each other. He makes a joke about how he'd walk her to the door if he could, but she doesn't find it very funny as she grabs her bag. She makes him to promise to call JJ or someone if he needs anything and to call her every morning and night before she pauses too long at the door. Another phone call is the only thing that gets her to leave.

He breathes out slow as she's gone. The whole apartment feels different without her here and he knows that it's ridiculous. Nothing else had changed but her presence, but… he can't explain it. It's almost cooler. His furniture seems to take some less space, making the rooms seem bigger and empty. He pulls out the vial from his sweater again and sets it back in the middle of the table, beginning where he had left off before her entrance and exit. In the middle of the a show off, a battle of wills.

Criminal Minds || Effortlessly

He's still high when she comes home. He tries his best to hide it, but he can tell she knows something's up the way she pauses at his bedroom door in mid conversation. She turns to look at him, concerned, watching him as she tries to figure out what's wrong about him. She shrugs it off after he promises he's just tired and he thinks he's in the clear until that night. She lays in his arms, almost a step when he straightens his arms for a moment, trying to get comfortable. She's quick and grabs his wrist, keeping his arm straight. Her eyes widen when she sees the track marks on his arms. She's even quicker as she moves out of the bed, staring and glaring at him,

"What the fuck is that?" She asks, her voice dangerously low. He scratches at the crook of his elbow and tries to shrug it off. He tries to tell her it was from before, scars from the torture, but she's not buying her. Her whole body is tense as she glares at him. She gives one shake of her head before she grabs her bag.

"I'm not doing this, Spencer."

The R sound at the end of his name is accented - he doesn't know if it's just because it's been a long time since she's used his full given name or the fact that she's angry and all her words are heavenly accented. Either way, it's enough to get him to crawl towards her, trying to calm her down. She slaps his hands away and glares again, moving to the dresser they share when she's in town. She pulls out her shirts and he begs her to stop. It gets her to pause, turn around and look at him.

"How long?"

His eyes lower. How was he supposed to tell her that he had shot up the night she left and had done it every night since, 33 nights in a row. His lack of answer gets a head shake and she turns back to the dresser, muttering to him and herself. He doesn't know why she's so angry. The whole culture of Los Angeles revolves around sex and drugs. It's the world she lives in and he doesn't do it to get high - he just does it to not…feel so… much. He reaches out again for her, trying to explain when he doesn't know how and she pushes him away, grabbing more clothes. She shoves them into her bag before she even looks at him again.

"Do you know how many people I've known have DIED from shit like that? And you're going to…. You've been….. You promised to tell me everything." She says, shaking her head, grabbing her bag and walking into the living room.

He follows her, trying to get her to understand, trying to make her see that he doesn't have a problem. That he's not addicted. That it's just a supplement that helps him from post traumatic stress and keeps him focused. The high is nice, but he's doesn't need it. None of his words have any effect on her, if anything they make her more upset and angry. Her lack of understanding angers him too and before he knows it, they're screaming at each other until she takes a step back, holds her hands up in surrender. He's breathing heavy, staring at her, waiting. He's not one to lose his cool, but everything was so messed up lately. She had to understand he was just trying to help himself.

She rubs her forehead before she takes a step towards him. She gives him a pitiful smile as her fingers run over his neck.

"I love you, Spencer, but… I can't do this. I can't watch you….disappear. You call me when you're ready."

She leans up on her toes and brushes her lips against his cheek before her hand moves to his chest, over his heart. She pulls away, grabs her bag and is out the door before he has time to react. He breathes in, staring at the door before he clenches his jaw. He refuses to let it hurt. He moves to his bathroom, grabbing the vial. 


End file.
